


A Crown of Contentment

by blueangel



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 21:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueangel/pseuds/blueangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the prince is different-in a way he is strange simply because he asks her opinions. R+L=J</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Crown of Contentment

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something that I wanted to do because I have writers block concerning Sand and Silk, I am hoping this and fanart ( yes I am drawing fanart and it is awesome) will unblock my mind. Meanwhile enjoy this fic!

    Jon Targaeryn, the first of his name, Prince of Dragonstone, and the heir apparent of the Seven Kingdoms is utterly _cold_. Not to say that his hand was not warm to the touch- it was more that his manner was cold. He sat stiff and unmovable as the ladies of the court fluttered around him, remarking how handsome he was. The Targaeryn prince would fluster at the compliments and make excuses to leave the room.  For her part, she stays back and only watches- she thinks she is quite tired of the game and would rather go back to Highgarden. This game has already cost them so much. Poor Loras slain dying from his wounds at Dragonstone, Garlan killed by an Other at the wall, and Margaery almost being killed herself by the Cersai Lannister.

She often wonders though, if Jon Targaeryn really is a _Targaeryn_ , for she sees no fire in him-only ice.

\-------------------------------------

Margaery ignores the whispers.

 _‘‘The Maid,’’_ they whisper, ‘’ _three times wed but never bedded_.’’ They snicker at whisper about her age. They sneer about her former husband’s, ‘’ _all dead because of her_ ’’.

Margaery holds her head up high and tries not to think about Tommen, the little boy who had loved to play with kittens, dying at his mother’s own hand.

\------------------------------------------

Margaery tries to not think about how her beauty is fading.

She is no longer the most beautiful woman at court. The Dragon Queen has replaced her in that, and she knows that she could not hold a candle to Sansa Stark when she came to court.

Her younger cousins, as well, seem to be surpassing her. She supposes time is cruel in that way.

\----------------------

Margaery often wanders the gardens. It is no matter that the snow is ankle deep, or that she shivers with every step, she is there because it is the closest to Highgarden that she can manage.

 All the plants are withered except for the winter roses, which stand proudly amongst the shriveled flowers. She likes to think of herself as a winter rose of some sort- alive in the winter when others had perished when autumn came.

She is touching the soft petals of the rose when she hears the crunching of snow behind her.  She turns to see a wolf, large and imposing, staring at her with red eyes. She knows that this is Jon Targaeryn’s Direwolf, Ghost was it? It certainly looked like a ghost, the snowy wolf blending into its surroundings.

Margaery lets out a little shriek despite herself, when the imposing wolf nudges his nose at her neck and sends her onto the ground.

‘’ Ghost.’’ The wolf turns to look at a hooded figure in black and backs off, for which Margaery is grateful for. The hooded figure, which she has guesses is Prince Jon, holds out his hand. Margaery takes it, standing on wobbly legs, and brushes herself off- trying to get her disheveled hair back in place.  ‘’ Are you alright lady Margaery?’’ Prince Jon removes his hood and runs a hand through his hair.

‘’ I am fine, thank you.’’ She has never been seen in a less than perfect state-even when she was in the dungeons, nor she had ever been in a more embarrassing situation.

‘’ I am sorry if he scared you-‘’

Margaery composes herself and lets out a little laugh, ‘’ He just surprised me that’s all.’’ She reaches out a tentative hand and scratches the wolf behind the ears. The prince looks on with a passive face while his wolf nudges her hand- seeming to like the affection she was giving him. Margaery pulls back and turns to curtsy to Prince Jon, ‘’ If you’ll excuse me I think I shall go inside- it seems I have had enough excitement for one day.’’ She waits for the Prince to bow to her and offer to kiss her hand, but when he does not, instead nodding to her, she shrugs it off and goes back inside.

\--------------------------------

They run into each other more often than not in the gardens. Ghost seems to play a neutral part in their relationship- if it can be called that. Mostly, they walk the gardens in a kind of silence, and if they talk it is of court matters.

It is an easy thing- Margaery has never had such companionship, all her life she has been breed and raised to be a noble lady of the court- to be pleasant to everyone, even those she despised simply because it was how one stayed alive in this world.

She has never gotten the chance to voice her thoughts or opinions, but simply played dumb. Letting the men, especially the men in her family, believe that they were in control- when the only one who had a brain was Willas.

But the prince is _different-_ in a way he is strange simply because he asks her opinions.

\---------------------------------

    When Daenerys Targaeryn the first of her name, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, _Khaleesi_ of the Great Grass Sea, and Breaker of Chains dies, the whole realm holds its breath.

Jon stays calm though; resolute in what seems to be a turbulent time. He shows sadness in Deanery’s passing; standing guard of her body in the Sept, and for the first time Margaery wonders if there was something more happening with the queen and her nephew, but then she shakes her head and goes back to praying as the thought leaves her sick to her stomach.

\---------------------------------

Jon’s upcoming coronation seems to have lifted winter and now small blooms bud around the bench where they sit.

‘’ What shall you call yourself now you majesty?’’ She sees him visible flinch at the title and she tries not to chuckle. ‘’ Well, are you a Targaeryn, Blackfyre, Stark or Snow?’’

‘’ Are you making fun of me Lady Margaery.’’

‘’ I was merely asking a question.’’

‘’ I am a Stark, maybe not In name- but always have been, it’s just taken me a very long time to realize that.’’

‘’ Your aunt would of said different.’’

‘’ My aunt-‘’ he pauses as if testing the word in his mouth, ‘’ was a very stubborn woman.’’

‘’ Yes I believe that is one way of putting it.’’ His lips twitch at that and she can’t help but feign shock, ‘’ your majesty have I made you smile? I have done the impossible. Now I think I shall go conquer the Free Cities.’’

He does smile at that and she can’t help as her own grin grows larger.

‘’ I believe you could.’’ He is still smiling but there is a serious tone in his voice that makes the laughter die in her throat.

‘’ You don’t think I’m just some frivolous, pretty young thing to be tucked away in her lords castle sewing and singing with not a thought in my head?’’ She bites her lip at the bitter tone in her voice.

‘’ I would call you many things but frivolous would not be one of them. And I know you have thoughts or else you wouldn’t be alive right now.’’

She smiles,’’ I think I am prepared to like you as a king, Jon.’’

He kisses her hand once.’’ I am pleased then, for I need an Allie in this game.’’

\-------------------------------

The cloak of black and crimson is different somehow- lighter perhaps? All she knows is that he removes the gold and green cloak from her shoulder (it shall be the last time she promises herself) and places his cloak around her shoulders, and when he kisses her it is gentle, but not controlled. (His kisses are never controlled).

 

 _Targaeryn_ , she tests it in her mind and thinks it is quite different from her other names, but she shall wear it well, perhaps not as well as the late queen, but well enough.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired from the quote from William Shakespeare


End file.
